


A Different Path

by alba17



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Druids, Gen, Magic, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-27 21:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5065879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dangerous encounter leads Morgana down a new path and changes her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunaelius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunaelius/gifts).



> Lunaelius, I hope you enjoy this alternate take on Morgana in S1. Thanks to J for the beta.

“Do you need anything else before you retire?” Gwen asked as she tarried by the door to Morgana’s chamber, a candle in her hand.

Morgana smiled at her, grateful as always for Gwen’s soothing presence. “No, thank you. I’ve taken some of Gaius’ draught and the day was tiring.”

“Sleep well, my lady.” Gwen disappeared into the hall.

If only she could, Morgana thought as she settled into the bed trying to get comfortable. Despite Gaius’ draught, which was supposed to help her sleep, she was anxious. Sleep had become uncharted territory, danger lurking in the dark shadows of her mind, springing up without warning in the middle of the night. Nightmares and dire predictions of her loved ones’ deaths had become routine. Rare was the night when she slept peacefully. As a result, she was exhausted and fretful during the day. She was at her wit’s end with the debilitating cycle.

She tossed and turned, trying not to wonder what what it all meant, but failing. It seemed to be getting worse. Her mind raced with crazy explanations as she stared at the ceiling.

Abruptly she jolted up in bed, heart pounding. Had she been asleep? She had the unmistakable sensation that something was there, yet her chamber was dark and still. She examined the familiar room and everything was in its place, as it should be. She lay back down, taking deep breaths to calm herself, eyes wide and vigilant for something, anything. 

Silence. 

Later she found herself at the window, looking out. She took in a sharp breath. shocked. How did she get here? She shivered from the brisk night air, the floor cold beneath her bare feet, and slammed shut the window before turning away in fear. Ice was in her veins. She remembered an insistent hand pulling her out of bed, compelling her to walk to the window, irresistible. What was she supposed to see? What was out there? She paced the room with her arms hugged to her sides, filled with terror. She glanced around the room but again saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was a feeling more than anything else, something intangible. 

She thought of calling Gwen but she’d relied so much on her maid lately. She didn’t want to disturb her rest.

The rest of the night she spent staring into the dark.

*

The next evening she dined with Uther. 

“How are you sleeping these days, my dear?” Uther asked as he pulled some grapes from the bowl. “You look tired.”

Morgana smiled weakly. “It could be better.” She toyed with the uneaten food on her plate. The shadows were deep at the edges of the hall.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Have you consulted with Gaius?”

“Yes, and he’s given me a draught.”

“Good, good. Sometimes these things take time.”

“I suppose.” She was sceptical. It seemed that her problems were impervious to Gaius’ remedies.

The candles on the table flickered unnaturally. “What was that?” Morgana said in a voice that was higher than she’d like. Her gaze darted around the room but she didn’t see anything. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Uther replied blandly, reaching for his goblet. 

Behind Uther she detected a movement near the throne, in the shadows. She stared, heart in her throat, as a grey wispy form coalesced from the darkness. She dropped her fork and it hit the plate with a clang. A face floated in the air, indistinct but with eyes and a mouth that formed an ‘o.’ A chill ran through her. She quickly looked down at her plate and the food suddenly sickened her.

A wave of cold air washed over her and icy fingers swept over the back of her neck. Her vision blurred. Terrified, she shot out of her chair.

“Excuse me, your majesty, I’m suddenly feeling unwell. I think I’ll retire,” she said in a rush.

“Certainly, my dear. Is everything all right?”

Morgana hesitated. Should she tell him? No, he’d be sure to accuse someone of sorcery. She’d have to handle this herself. “I’m not sure. I might just call on Gwen for assistance and take Gaius’ draught before going to bed.”

“Excellent idea.” 

She hated his benign obtuseness. Couldn’t he see she was frightened? At the same time she didn’t want him to know anything. When Uther got involved, it made everything worse. She squared her shoulders to face the invisible menace. Its presence clung to her like a bank of fog. 

Morgana bade Uther good night and flew from the hall. The torches in the corridors didn’t alleviate the deep blackness of the shadows or the fear that gripped her. She madly scanned every dark corner for suspicious movement. Her feet barely touched the floor in her rush to escape. Where she could go, she didn’t know. She just had to run. 

“Morgana…Morgana…” A voice whispered in her ear. Invisible fingers grasped her arm and pulled her along, insistent and irresistible. She tried to tug out of its chilly grip, go the other way, but its force was mighty. It was impossible.

Her chest tightened with fear. What was going on? She felt powerless; the complete loss of control was horrifying.

Soon she was in the main hallway, in front of Camelot’s entrance. She watched in horror as the massive door opened by itself. Her hood was swept over her head of its own accord and she was pulled into the night. She looked back to see the door creak shut with a thud and her heart sank.

 

Drawn by the invisible force, she walked through the town and out the gate into the thick darkness of the woods. The ghostly face now appeared ahead of her and glowed to light her way. The icy fingers loosened their grip but she could still feel an unnatural weight on her shoulders, holding her in place.

Within moments, a lit clearing appeared in the trees and Morgana slowed her steps. This was the place, she could tell. In the clearing, a group of people gathered around a fire. Their clothing and tattoos marked them as Druids. Morgana’s breath caught and she almost turned around to flee.

“No, child, you must stay,” a voice spoke in her ear. “This is where you belong.”

She hid behind a large tree so she could watch undetected.

An elder intoned what sounded like a prayer, a spell or a ritual of some sort. She held a censer in which incense burned and looked up where the trees met the sky and stars peeped through the darkness. Her eyes were closed. The others repeated her words. 

Morgana understood nothing, as they spoke in the Druid tongue. Until the priestess spoke her name and looked directly at her, eyes glowing in the firelight. “Morgana of Camelot, come forth,” she said, clear as day. Her voice rang in a timbre not known to man. 

Morgana had to comply. Her stomach fluttered but the invisible weight somehow gave her strength, its energy transformed from stick to carrot. Head held high, she stepped into the clearing and looked into the eyes of the priestess. “How do you know my name?” she said.

“We have watched you for many years, Morgana,” the priestess said. “You saved Mordred from the flames.”

“I did what was right. It was wrong to execute a boy.”

The priestess nodded slowly. “Indeed. He was one of your own.”

Morgana frowned. “What do you mean? He was a Druid, one of you.”

“You both have magic. Powerful magic.”

“No.” Her voice trembled. “I have no magic.” If Uther should hear that anyone suspected her of magic, it could be death.

“Oh, but you do. You just don’t know it yet. And that is why you are here.”

Morgana’s chest tightened with fear. She didn’t know what to think. “How could I have magic? What do you mean?”

The priestess put down the censer and walked around the group toward her. Morgana stepped back. “Have no fear, my dear. We are all friends here. We will not hurt you.” As the woman came closer, Morgana could not get a handle on her features. She seemed old and young at once, one second her face wizened with age and wisdom, the next young and beautiful, eyes burning with pride and arrogance. 

“Don’t come any closer.” Morgana said, her voice rising.

The priestess stopped and held up both hands in appeasement. “I understand you are scared. It is natural. I apologize for the way in which you were brought here. It was deemed necessary to use such methods. You are safe now. Tonight we meet each other and talk. Another time we will begin your lessons.”

“What lessons?”

“In magic, of course. How else will you become the most powerful witch in the land?” The priestess smiled.

Morgana stared at her, open-mouthed. Her mind reeled. 

“You don’t believe me. Think of your dreams, Morgana. The unexpected things that happen around you for which there’s no explanation.”

This was true. Morgana’s dreams had become more and more disturbing. Some things had happened which frightened her, she had to admit. She’d tried to brush it off, diminish them, but if she were honest, she was terrified by the sense of things inside her that she couldn’t control.

“These things happen because you have magic that you don’t know how to control. We can teach you.”

“But magic is dangerous. How can I have magic?” Again she thought of Uther.

“Look inside yourself, my dear. When you look in your heart with a clear mind, you will know and recognize the magic that resides there.”

It would explain what had been happening to her, Morgana thought. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to hear what the Druid woman had to say. 

“Come,” the priestess said as she gestured towards the fire. “Join us. Share a cup of wine so we may become friends.” She smiled. “It’s safe here, I promise. Probably safer than anywhere else.”

Morgana hesitated for a moment. She could run right now, all the way back to Camelot, dive under her covers and forget this ever happened. In the morning she could pretend it was all a dream. They didn’t look like they would chase her. But an invisible cloak of warmth and security held her in place, silently encouraging her to stay, telling her everything would be all right.

The priestess held out her arm and Morgana nodded, then took it. The other Druids at the fire looked up at her with welcoming faces. The priestess led her to an empty seat next to a middle-aged man with a close-cut brown beard. “This is Cerdan. He came to us as an adult and learned our ways. Now he is one of our warlocks.”

“Welcome,” he said with a warm smile. He handed her a cup of wine. “Sit. Drink. You must be curious about what’s happening to you.”

Morgana sat and took the cup. “I am.” The wine was warm and smelled of spices. “Did you know you had magic before you came here?”

“I suspected. Just as you have.”

She had, hadn’t she? Deep down, she knew it was magic that had made all these strange things happen but she hadn’t wanted to face it. Because magic equaled death in Uther’s Camelot, and Camelot was all she had ever known, contained everyone she loved in the world. 

The priestess patted her arm. “You will see, Morgana. Our path is your path. We will guide you and teach you how to safely use your magic. To help people. We are not evil, as your king says.”

Morgana swallowed. She felt torn between two worlds. On the one hand, the world of her childhood and the man who served as her guardian; on the other, the world of magic, of others like herself. She could see in their eyes how much they had in common. It felt right. Yet the potential loss of everything she’d known was frightening. “I don’t know what to think.”

Cerdan met her gaze. “Tonight we drink and talk. We will not talk of magic. You will see we are trustworthy. Then you will return to your own life. Others have lived in both worlds and you can too. All will be well, Lady Morgana. You have so much potential and we want to help.”

“I believe you.” And she did. She desperately wanted release from her confusing and terrifying nights. If magic was the explanation, she wanted to know how to use it and the Druids could help her. 

The wine warmed her and helped her relax. She fell into conversation with a young woman on her other side and immediately felt a sense of companionship that she’d never felt at Camelot. Maybe this would work out after all.

“When it is time for you to come again, we will send you a message,” the priestess said.

“How will I know?” 

“Don’t worry about that. You will know.”

Morgana decided to put herself in their hands. She would have to be careful. Uther had eyes everywhere. It was worth it if she could ultimately use magic to help the people of Camelot. Uther’s hatred of magic had always seemed wrong to her. Magic users were people like anyone else, they came in all stripes, good and evil and in-between. It was a mistake to make magic a crime when it could be used for good.

Before she left, the priestess took hold of her hands and looked in her eyes. “Lady Morgana, I hope you will return to us. We have much to teach you. Uther will not be king forever. In the future, Camelot will be different.”

Morgana’s heart warmed to her words. “I hope you’re right. I look forward to returning.”

The priestess squeezed her hands. “Good.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small satchel. “Here. This is one of our concoctions that will help you sleep. Trust me, it is much more effective than Gaius’ draughts.” She winked.

Morgana took it and held it to her chest, touched. “Thank you so much. I’m very grateful.”

By the time she returned to Camelot and her bed, it was only a few hours until morning. But it was the best sleep Morgana had had in a very long time.


End file.
